30 Years Ago: The Clash Fire Mick Jones 30 Years Ago: The Clash Fire Mick Jones By Bryan Wawzenek September 1, 2013 11:24 AM REDDIT Hulton Archive/Getty Images In 1983, “the only band that matters” was poised to become the biggest band in the world. Over the course of a few years, the Clash had gone from punk upstarts to a passionately eclectic band capable of rocking stadiums. The British quartet were riding high on ‘ Combat Rock ’ (their first top 10 album in the U.S.) along with a pair of hit singles, ‘Rock the Casbah’ and ‘Should I Stay or Should I Go.’ The Clash were booked to co-headline (with David Bowie and Van Halen ) the US Festival and played to more than 140,000 people. And they were completely miserable. Things had begun to disintegrate right before the release of ‘Combat Rock’ when drummer Topper Headon was fired because his heroin addiction was a drag on his precision.

But the other three members (Joe Strummer, Mick Jones and Paul Simonon) soldiered on with drummer Terry Chimes, who had played on the band’s 1977 debut. The friction within the band only got worse and Chimes left the group at his first opportunity. Jones and Strummer, the creative forces in the Clash, were heading in different directions. After six years or rampant touring and recording, Jones was ready for a break and desperately wanted an extended vacation. With the band’s commercial fortunes on the rise, Strummer wanted to capitalize on their fame with more touring (a move supported by Simonon). “Mick was intolerable to work with by this time,” the late Strummer remembered in the Clash documentary, ‘Westway to the World.’ “He wouldn’t show up. When he did show up, it was like Elizabeth Taylor in a filthy mood.” Jones later regretted his behavior. “I was just carried away really, I wish I had a bit more control,” Jones reflected. “You know, you wish you knew what you know now.” Unable to plan a summer ’83 Clash tour because of Jones, and continually annoyed by his lack of care and punctuality, Strummer and Simonon weighed their options.

They decided that the best move was to assume complete control and fire Mick from the band in September of 1983. “We had to change the team because the atmosphere was too terrible,” Strummer said (as quoted in ‘The Rise and Fall of the Clash’ ). “We got so much work to do that we can’t waste time begging people to play the damn guitar!” Simonon, who had altogether stopped talking to Jones, concurred: “We felt we’ve had enough, let’s kick him out and that’s what we decided on and to hell with the consequences.” The consequences were that the Clash wouldn’t be able to survive the removal of a founding member (as well as the group’s prime melodic talent). Strummer and Simonon hired two guitarists to replace Jones and made 1985’s ‘Cut the Crap,’ an album Joe would pretty much disown. The Clash officially broke up the next year. Meanwhile, Jones co-founded General Public (although he left before making much of a creative contribution) and then started Big Audio Dynamite, which took his music in a more urban/dance-oriented direction. When Strummer came calling, asking Jones to reform the Clash with him, Jones declined.

Instead, the two collaborated on B.A.D.’s second album, ‘No. 10, Upping St.’ co-producing the record and co-writing half the songs. Strummer and Jones remained friends and even played a few Clash songs together at a charity show. They also planned to play a full reunion gig as part of the band’s induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2003. Sadly, Strummer died of a congenital heart defect in December 2002, making the reunion impossible. “Whatever a group is, it is the chemical mixture of those four people that makes a group work,” Strummer said, a few years before his death. “That’s a lesson everyone should learn: you don’t mess with it. If it works, just let it… do whatever you have to do to bring it forward, but don’t mess with it. We learned that bitterly.” Mick Jones — Free listening, videos, concerts, stats and photos at Last.fm classic rock There are two musicians known as Mick Jones, one connected to The Clash and Big Audio Dynamite , the other to Foreigner .

Michael Geoffrey "Mick" Jones (born 26 June 1955) was the lead guitarist and a vocalist of the British punk rock band The Clash until his dismissal in 1983. He went on to form the band Big Audio Dynamite with Don Letts before line-up changes led to the formation of Big Audio Dynamite II and later Big Audio . Why the Clash are still rock titans | Music | The Guardian The Observer Why the Clash are still rock titans It began with a White Riot in 1977 and ended in 1986 when the band split. But 20 years later, the Clash are more influential than ever. Neil Spencer explains their lasting appeal, while James Brown asks famous fans to pick their favourite singles Neil Spencer and James Brown Saturday 28 October 2006 21.04 EDT Share on Messenger Close What gives a band longevity? Quality, the virtues of classic songwriting, melody, lyricism, an inescapable hookline, a killer riff.

An iconic image and a 'seminal' role in pop history will ensure immortality of a sort - the Sex Pistols will always define the punk insurrection and Spandau Ballet will always sport the kilts of New Romance - but if you really want to stick around, you'd better have music that resonates down the decades. The Clash always threw great shapes, dressing like rock dandies and refining their visuals and stage presence with the finesse of art students. After the Pistols, they were the most galvanic, mythologised force in punk, but over the 20 years since they split (23 if you count from Mick Jones's sacking), it's their songwriting that has underpinned the group's continuing presence in the cultural ether. It's a presence that has grown in recent years, as Clash songs have seeped into soundtracks, Clash titles have become catchphrases - witness the way 'Rock the Casbah' and 'London Calling' have acquired anthemic status, or director Shane Meadows naming his new film, This Is England, after a Clash single.

Tomorrow also sees the issue of a complete, 19-disc singles box set (Sony BMG) and Chris Salewicz's epic, revealing biography of Joe Strummer, Redemption Song (HarperCollins), is in the shops now. A new generation of musicians namechecks the band in much the way that Britpop groups paid homage to the Beatles, while their songs are widely covered - here a country cover of 'Stand By Me', there a folk version of 'Janie Jones' or a Franco-Arab 'Casbah' to name three recent examples. Unlike most punk bands, the Clash positioned themselves as part of wider musical traditions. Strummer might have proclaimed 'No Elvis, Beatles or Rolling Stones in 1977', but the band covered reggae, rockabilly and blues and had country singer Joe Ely and R&B trailblazer Bo Diddley as support acts. Rooted, they also became less time-and-place specific, more timeless. That's why they're still with us now. Shane MacGowan The Pogues White Riot All the Clash singles come down to 'White Riot'.

It was the first single (it's got '1977' on the B-side) and I'll always remember the day I bought it, which was the day it came out. It was March '77 and you could really see that the party was already over and we were rushing headlong towards the summer of hate. 'White Riot' and '1977' really gave off that feeling of paranoia, and the Clash were doing their up-against-the-wall stance in their stencilled suits. It had a great picture sleeve. It was all about speed, staying out in sexually deviant or heavy-duty black nightclubs and massive creativity. It was also a piss-take of how pathetic white people are at standing up for their rights and having fun, whereas black people know how to do both. Both the Clash and the Pistols were masters of decadence. The essential theme behind punk wasn't hate; it was complete contempt for the idea of the right to work or the need to do anything. It wasn't ignorance, it was simply: 'Fuck it, I don't care. I just wanna have fun.' And 'White Riot' says it all.

Carl Barat Singer, Dirty Pretty Things Tommy Gun The Clash were part of the nameless soundtrack to my early life. My mum and dad had these punk compilation tapes they used to play and 'Should I Stay or Should I Go' and 'London Calling' were on them. The band always appealed more than the Sex Pistols - they had more to say. 'Tommy Gun' evokes that age. It's a product of the volatile climate of the late Seventies - all those references to terrorist organisations like Baader-Meinhof and the Red Brigade. It's like a punk adaptation of the Beatles' 'Revolution': 'Tommy gun, you ain't happy less you got one!' Fucking great. A mate told me a funny story about the ad lib near the end where Strummer sings: 'OK, so let's agree about the price, and make it one jet airliner for 10 prisoners.' Apparently, he texted it to a mate who couldn't figure out what the lyrics were and the next morning some heavies from MI5 turned up on his doorstep! That alone proves 'Tommy Gun' is as relevant now as it was back then.

Irvine Welsh Novelist Clash City Rockers The opening chopped guitar riff, executed with such abrupt power and precision, immediately informs you that you're in the presence of true greatness. Punk was primarily a male youth culture and the song audaciously kicks over the previous lads' icons - Bowie and (the pre-nonce) Gary Glitter. It was saying that it wasn't wearing make-up that made us shocking: it was because we were obnoxious, spotty, angry, bored, young cunts. This was one of the songs that made me leave home and go to London. It was always on at all hours in the Shepherd's Bush squat. I became an insomniac because of this song. Every time you put it on, you were making a statement: this is our time and we will not be denied. A lot of water, beer, amphetamines and music has flowed under the bridge since then. But under the right conditions - for example, blasting out from a Stoke Newington stereo on a hot London summer's day - I feel a shiver down my spine and nearly 30 years seem to have been shed.

Sharleen Spiteri Singer, Texas Rock the Casbah My all-time favourite single by the Clash was 'Rock the Casbah', because I was convinced they were singing 'Sharleen don't like it.' Later, I booked into hotels as Janie Jones until someone rumbled me. I also love 'The Cool Out', which is a mix of 'The Call Up' from the Sandinista! album. It's really important because it shows the band's versatility. The thing about the Clash that stood out is they were always looking for what was happening, what was coming up from the street. They took what was new and hadn't broken through, mixed it with something accessible and made it the Clash. They changed music completely by showing they could take a band with bass and guitars and drums to a whole new place. They took away the fear of gay disco music. Pete Townshend The Who Should I Stay or Should I Go My favourite Clash single is 'Should I Stay or Should I Go'. I thought I'd heard it somewhere before. Listening to (the album) Combat Rock makes me feel like I'm 34 again and spring is in the cocaine. We had a junior manager called Chris Chappel who was a huge Clash fan.

I invited them on to the US tour after Chris convinced our senior manager they would be good. By the end of the tour, they had broken the US. I adore the Clash, as I adored the Sex Pistols. Not really comparable, but they both felt to me like bands who, like the Jam a little later, had travelled a route laid by the Who more than any other band. The New York Dolls and the Ramones influenced British punk rock, but it was our simultaneous exaltation of rock, and indifference to it, that both bands emulated. So I have a personal pride in the Clash, as I do in the Sex Pistols and the Jam. The Who recently played at the Brighton Centre and all I could think of while we played was that I had once played with the Clash on the same stage in 1981. Ian Brown Musician, formerly Stone Roses Bankrobber I was at the recording of 'Bankrobber'. Me and my mate Pete Garner were walking down Granby Road in the middle of Manchester one day and we could hear these drums coming through the walls. Pete was a proper Clash fan and he was convinced it was them.

Then Topper Headon walks out on to the street right in front of us! He invited us downstairs into the studio to see what was going on. Mikey Dread was there and we got chatting. They were dead cool. Joe Strummer was sitting in the corner with a big, wide-brimmed hat on beneath this big grandfather clock, clicking his fingers in time to it. Paul Simonon asked us what our favourite film was and then said [affects authentic west London drawl]: 'Mine's Death Race 2000!' Funny, the things you remember. Afterwards, we showed Johnny Green, their tour manager, the way to the record shop and he bought two copies of 'London Calling' - one for each of us. I'll never forget it. Bernard Sumner Joy Division and New Order Rock the Casbah I was aware of the Clash when punk happened because that was what started us going, although I don't think Joy Division were punk like that. I think we were something else that came after, that didn't have a name. I heard 'Rock the Casbah' in New York when we first started going there in the early Eighties after the demise of Joy Division.

We were struggling a bit because Ian Curtis's death meant we couldn't go in that direction any more; we'd peaked in that sound. Clubs in New York were 'new wave', and the music was infinitely better than in England. There was the Peppermint Lounge, Danceteria, Hurrah's, AM-PM. They weren't playing commercial dance music but club tracks by English groups. The two absolute classics were 'Tainted Love' by Soft Cell and 'Rock the Casbah'. 'Rock the Casbah' broke form. It really cut it in a club and showed me you can make club music that's not cheesy. Here was a proper group, making proper music, but they were using traditional rock'n'roll instruments to make music that dominated a New York club scene. That was a massive inspiration for me. Stuart Pearce England football hero and manager of Manchester City FC Complete Control When I was 14, I was living with my mum and dad in Kingsbury, north west London. After school, I'd be straight up to the bedroom to get the records on. The walls had posters of all the bands I liked: the Clash, Stranglers, Stiff Little Fingers, Bowie.

I had a Lurkers set list and a massive 'Holidays in the Sun' Pistols poster. I didn't have a clue what I wanted to do back then - I still don't now - I was just into music. Back then, I didn't want to hear any slow songs or ballads; I just wanted something fast and loud that I could sing along to and jump up and down on the bed with a baseball bat like an idiot. 'Complete Control' was the rawest song I had; everything I wanted was on it. I can still remember my old girl coming in and telling me to turn it down. I'd play 'White Riot' before I went out to play, mainly at Forest; that was my musical peak, because I was captain. Brian Clough sort of turned a blind eye to it, really. Bobby Gillespie Primal Scream The Magnificent Seven This is the leading track on the album Sandinista!. I played it loads. When it came out, I was 18, living at home with my dad.

I had a job in a print factory and the lyrics were pretty true to my life: 'Ring ring it's 7am, move y'self to go again.' Most of the time I was so bored with it I wanted to commit suicide, so the song portrayed that experience correctly. The song's about the futility of work - it voiced the experience I was going through. Living in a cage, imprisoned with no real future, that song gave me the courage to give up work. I always remember the lyrics because of that. I loved Chic, and this sounded like 'Good Times'. It sounded like a punk version of Chic. It's a rebel song you can dance to. The album was one of the best, really brave, coming after London Calling, which everyone was saying was a rock masterpiece. Then they come out with this triple album full of disco, psychedelia, country, dub, everything. It's an amazing record, great energy, great remixes, a truly wild record with some of Strummer's greatest lyrics. The Edge Guitarist, U2 (White Man) In Hammersmith Palais The Clash's first album always sounded a bit rough to me.

It was only when I saw the band live on their 'Out of Control' tour that I found out how potent they could be. It was 21 October 1977 in Trinity College, Dublin - it was a tribal gathering and it had a seismic impact on the Dublin subculture. 'White Man in Hammersmith Palais' was the first song that revealed their political depth. Written after a disappointing reggae gig at the Hammersmith Palais featuring Dillinger, Leroy Smart and Delroy Wilson, it mocks both the gun-toting braggartry of the reggae artists and the shallow, attention-seeking UK punk rockers for missing the real danger: the rise of the neo-Nazi movement. Steve Jones Sex Pistols and Indie 103.1 FM, LA London Calling I loved the Clash. They were formed because of seeing the Pistols, so they were never seen as a threat. The Pistols were number one and the Clash were number two, even if that was perceived to have changed further along the road. I like the way they played because it was the same style as I'm from, the same school of glam. Mick Jones was coming from the same place I was.

I went up to Birmingham and played with them. It was all good in my book. 'London Calling' was their 'Anarchy in the UK'. I thought it was a depressing song but significant, because of the lyrics. You know, history gets twisted by those who weren't there. The Clash, they were there, we were there. I've had Mick on the blower for the radio show. And Joe would leave me these weird messages when he was alive, at 5am, saying how I was his fave guitar player. They were great guys. I liked them. Clash culture 'The Clash were the best group in the world and they would have been bigger than U2 without a doubt. For a long time, they were who we measured ourselves against.' Larry Mullen of U2 Joe Strummer (guitar/vocals), Mick Jones (guitar/vocals), Paul Simonon (bass), Topper Headon (drums). First gig Supporting the Sex Pistols at the Black Swan, Sheffield, on 4 July 1976, in front of 50 people.

Highs · London Calling was voted best album of the 1980s by Rolling Stone and the best album of all time by Entertainment Weekly in 2004. · Their best-selling record Combat Rock reached number two in the UK and number seven in the US. · They played the US Festival in California in 1983, with an audience of almost half-a-million people. Lows · The band were spat at so frequently in the early days that Joe Strummer contracted hepatitis from an audience member in 1978. · Strummer kicked the heroin-addicted Headon out of the band in 1982 and, a year later, Mick Jones, with whom he'd fallen out. Jones went on to form Big Audio Dynamite. The Clash finally disbanded in 1986. · Strummer died of a heart-attack in December 2002, aged 50. His last gig, a month earlier, with his band the Mescaleros, was a benefit for a striking firefighters union at Acton Town Hall. Why did the Clash break up?

- Quora Quora The original line-up of The Clash were guitarist Joe Strummer, guitarist Mick Jones, bassist Paul Simonon, and drummer Terry Chimes in 1976. The Clash went through a little turmoil before finally breaking up in 1983. Chimes left the group to be replaced by drummer Topper Headon in 1977. Through their rise (The Clash, Give 'Em Enough Rope, London Calling, Sandinista!) Topper Headon, had to be replaced in 1982 after the Combat Rock album because of his heroin addiction. So back in comes the original drummer Chimes. Joe Strummer mentions this problem in the DVD "Westway to the World" that a jazz player can get away with the type of improv that a drug like heroin knocks you into, but as a drummer that drives a band, not so effective. At the height of their fame and and during their 1983 tour in the U.S., Joe Strummer and Paul Simonon fired Mick Jones, effectively ending the clash. Strummer says Jones has strayed too far from the original ideals of the band. Observers says they were arguing ceaselessly.

The following year Mick went on to form the band Big Audio Dynamite, which had some successful songs of their own. Joe later formed his own band called the Mescaleros. Clash city rockers – Mick Jones and Paul Simonon recall the glory days | Music | The Guardian The Clash Clash city rockers – Mick Jones and Paul Simonon recall the glory days The two surviving founder members of the Clash take a break from remixing the retrospective Sound System box set to reminisce about going to the pictures, sharp clothes and rock'n'roll 1977 and all that: the Clash under the Westway, London. Left to right: Topper Headon, Mick Jones, Paul Simonon and Joe Strummer. Photograph: Adrian Boot/Urbanimage.tv Thursday 23 May 2013 13.11 EDT First published on Thursday 23 May 2013 13.11 EDT Share on Messenger Close The days of London's Burning are long gone. For a start, you can't go "up and down the Westway / in and out the lights" any more, because while the overpass the Clash romanticised is still there, the lights aren't.

From the top floor of Damon Albarn's studios in west London, we – Mick Jones, Paul Simonon and I – can see the lamp-posts cut short like a string of London's plane trees cut back to the trunk. The guitarist and bassist are no longer angry young punks, either – instead, they're startlingly well-dressed middle-aged men, Simonon handrolling his cigarettes, and Jones offering non-sequitur asides as if he's walked off the set of some half-forgotten old radio comedy. They are here to promote a pair of compilations that will emerge at the summer's end. Sound System is a box set, containing the first five Clash albums remastered, plus a plethora of rarities in both audio and visual form, along with the usual assortment of bright shiny trinkets. The Clash Hits Back is a two-CD best-of, sequenced to copy the setlist from a show at the Brixton Fair Deal – now the Academy – in July 1982.

That a new Clash compilation and box set – the sixth and the third, respectively – can still generate excitement is testimony to both the affection in which the band are held, and the sense that, for all the decades that have passed since their demise, no British rock'n'roll band since has challenged them for ambition, scope and pure excitement. Why was the Brixton show so significant that you copied the setlist for The Clash Hits Back? Mick Jones: I don't know! Paul Simonon: We're from the Brixton area, and I used to go there – it used to be called the Brixton Astoria – for Saturday-morning pictures. It's actually where I saw my first ever pop show. We all turned up as 10-year-olds, and they said: "Right, boys and girls, we've got a special surprise for you – we're not going to show you a film!" So everyone was "Booooo." "No, we've got a special surprise – we have Sandie Shaw!" And Sandie Shaw came on, and she was going on about not having any shoes. So we had an hour set from her, and that was my first pop concert.

MJ: We used to bunk in, which was quite difficult. In those days, on a Saturday night, it would be thousands of people – as many people as you get to a gig at the Academy. You'd have that but the whole place would be packed – before video, before anything. That was the social hub. On weekdays and in holidays, one of us would shin up a drainpipe and go through the open window to the loos, right, and then come down and open the door and we'd all pile in. It would generally be an X. PS: I wanted to see Hell's Angels '69 , but they said: "No mate, you're too young." MJ: And I was also in the ABC Minors up the road at the Fridge. I was in a twist competition! PS: I used to go to the ABC as well and occasionally I went to the Classic. MJ: The Classic! The fleapit, which is now the Ritzy. They used to show two movies, but also you'd come when the doors opened about 12.45, and then you could sit there all the way through till the evening and it was time to go home.

They'd usually be dubbed into English … PS: From Italian. MJ: … but I didn't notice the out-of-syncness at the time. PS: I remember at the ABC they brought someone in from the audience to hold this torch and whoever this torch landed on got a free ice-cream. They were going round the room and suddenly said: "Oi, mate, you've won a free ice-cream" – it had landed on me. So I got a free ice-cream, which was not comfortable – 'cos you're enjoying free ice-cream and everyone else is looking at you, with no ice-cream. Reading on a mobile? View here How much did your setlists vary from show to show? MJ: Quite considerably. Obviously there were some numbers that always had to be in there. Joe [Strummer] actually physically did the list, but we all made our suggestions. PS: One thing that crossed my mind the other day was that it was probably quite a challenge for Joe, trying to remember the lyrics for a song that maybe we hadn't played for a while.

Now I understand why before we went on he used to be mumbling in the corner – obviously he'd be going over the lyrics of a song that we'd just reintroduced. It's about building up the show, reaching a natural plateau, then taking it on. But sometimes things would be thrown in because of the circumstances of what was happening within the gig. If there was a riot going on, then obvoiously we're going into Armagideon Time. How had you changed as a live band between 1976 and 1982? PS: For myself, I'd become musically more capable. I could take off the notes that were painted on the neck of my guitar. But then I did make a mistake in being really confident: I went for one of those jazz basses that didn't have frets … MJ: Your thumb was growing so big. He hit his thumb with a hammer! It was the only way he could play! PS: It didn't have any frets. And when it goes really dark, and you can't quite hear what you're playing, it suddenly sounds like you're drunk. So I said: "You know what?

I think I'll have the frets put back on." I got a bit carried away. I thought I was getting quite good, but I got a big slap in the face. Reading on a mobile? View here You were always very dynamic onstage – was that rehearsed or spontaneous? PS: There were certainly aspects – if he's gonna run across stage like that, then I'm gonna run across this way. And if he can jump that high, then I'm gonna jump this high! There was competition with each other on stage, too. MJ: As we became more pompous. PS: Pompous? When? What, with my crown and my sceptre? Yeah, I remember that. And the ermine furs on your combat outfit. MJ: We didn't really choreograph it though. It just developed. But you must have given some of your moves some thought: like the three of you walking up to the mics on I Fought the Law , the single most thrilling sight in guitar music … MJ: Oh yeah … PS: That's when the backing vocals are coming in, so you're standing around playing and then – Oh it's time for the backing vocals – and everyone leans in.

MJ: We got good at looking at what's going on out of the corner of your eye. PS: You knew what everybody else was doing. MJ: There was great chemistry between us, and we was kind of mindreading. PS: But it became extra important because [the pair stand up to assume their onstage positions, leaving a space in the middle where Strummer would be] Mick would be there, I would be here and Joe would be there, and we'd have leads from our guitars. So I know if I run over this way, and Mick goes over this way [the two jog past each other, miming carrying their instruments], I've got to remember that when I come back I've got to go through the front of him. MJ: Otherwise it's like this [mimes pulling apart a tangle of leads]. All a tangle. The bits you don't see is us scrabbling around the stage trying to unravel our leads PS: Sometimes you'd get a Gordian knot of guitar cables and we couldn't get any closer to the mic 'cos we were all constricted. MJ: Johnny Thunders . PS: Hearing that Wilko was very unwell made me think a lot about him.

I remember the first Clash album cover , I'm almost wearing Wilko's clothes. I used to wear a jacket similar to this [he's wearing a tailored midnight blue jacket] with that outfit, and so, yeah, Wilko was a big influence. And in other ways so was Pete Townshend because he jumped around. He made the show look exciting. Those were the main two. MJ: It was Keith Richards for me, and Johnny Thunders. And then me. Did you have to rethink your music and your objectives after the initial explosion of punk burned itself out? PS: I remember having a conversation with Joe where we were going: "What are we going to sing about now?" That was really an issue, because we'd just signed the deal with the record company. We thought: "Great! We've got a hundred grand! Let's buy a club!" Not realising that this money is just on loan, really. It's not yours to keep. MJ: We always wanted to buy a club. Always. That's what we would say, wasn't it? Buy a club – that would be what you'd do when you had some money.

Would you have wanted to be lumbered with a disaster like the Haçienda , though? MJ: How can you say the Haçienda went wrong? Wow! Well, the members of New Order have spent 20 years moaning about how broke it left them … MJ: Sometimes you have to take that leap of faith. And buy a club! How deliberate was the way the Clash changed from album to album, or was it more a reflection of your changing listening habits? PS: In some ways we didn't think: "Oh, this had to be different". It journeyed that way. It just evolved. MJ: You should never ever make the same record twice. Do something different every time – that's a given. What it is, is where you are at that time – it reflects where you're at. A record tells you a lot about the artist's life, but also a lot about your own life – that's what I got out of the records I listened to. They told me how I might be able to live my life. You've got to reach out in every direction and embrace everything, PS: With cross-pollination between the four of us, our influences came out more and more.

MJ: That's what I'm trying to say – the chemistry of the four us is so unique. But also each person is the sum of their experiences when they play music. You're expressing yourself in a way that is not quantifiable. Reading on a mobile? View here The way the Clash was presented – in clothes, in posters, in images – was very important, wasn't it? PS: Totally. You could put it down to a very basic thing [Clash manager] Bernie Rhodes said to me once. He said: "Why is an audience going to listen to what you've got to say if they're better dressed than you?" So if you think about that in the bigger picture, everything's important because it reflects what you're about as a band. If you say: "I don't care about the posters, I just do the music," you're underselling yourself. It's all important. A lot of the looks were down to financial problems. Everyone in those days wore flares and had long hair. So if you went into secondhand stores, there'd be so many straight-legged trousers because everyone wanted flares. That instantly set you apart from everybody else.

And also there was another place called Laurence Corner … MJ: Selling army surplus … PS: … and you could dress it up accordingly. Somebody would wear one thing, and someone else would think: "That's good." For example, Johnny Thunders came over. We always wore Dr Martens, but me and Joe saw his boots and said: "Wow, where d'you get those boots from?" And he said: "There's place called Hudson's in New York." So when we got to New York, we went straight to the shop and bought these motorcycle boots like these [Simonon holds up leg to show he still wears them], which we wore all the time, and people started calling them "Clash boots". And when we left Great Britain and started touring other places in the world, we'd pick up stuff. Like in America there was a surplus of 50s clothing that was next to nothing – nobody wanted it, in the same way as the straight-legged trousers. So we'd buy it and bring it back, and it was like: "Wow – this is like what Gene Vincent would wear." And then it became mixed in with what we had.

MJ: You could get some really cool stuff in thrift stores in the US. Even guitars. Good guitars. PS: The other thing that was important was that it wasn't just something you wore onstage. You wore it offstage, too. What was really good about the beginning of the whole punk thing is you would leave London and go to Teesside or anywhere up north and there'd be kids turning up who'd got their shirt and cut the sleeves off or splattered it with paint and done something themselves – it was DIY, which was really important. MJ: It was good to see how things built up in those days. The first time you'd play at a place, there'd be a few punks. The next time, there'd be a few more. And the next time, you couldn't get in. There was a curiosity [from new fans] – "Not sure what this is." Then they'd see what it was and they'd do their version of it. You could see it grow in that way. It was fantastic. I didn't see it at the time – I was just following the music – but I see it now, in retrospect. PS: It's important the clothing thing, in lots of ways.

MJ: It was a statement. What was it like to revisit the old music to remaster it for the Sound System box set? MJ: Remastering's a really amazing thing. That was the musical point of it all. Because there's so much more there that you wouldn't have heard before, it was like discovering stuff, because the advances in mastering are immense since the last time it was remastered, in the 90s. PS: It's interesting about the mastering because I heard Safe European Home, and it's got a whole guitar part I never heard before. It's buried … MJ: I've probably never heard it! It's probably some session musician, when I was asleep! It's tunes you're familiar with, but you're hearing stuff you never heard before. So the concept of the whole thing is: best box set ever. Punk seems to have been more of a vehicle for you – a way to get where you wanted – rather than a destination. Is that fair? PS: We were only punk in so far as that was what we were called. We were essentially a rock'n'roll band.

MJ: No, we were a punk group – the idea of it … PS: … was the nature of what we did in the beginning. MJ: We come from punk … De La Punk! Reading on a mobile? View here What would have happened to the Clash had you been able to carry on? Would you have kept your dignity, or become a musical pantomime? MJ: You what? Only if I get the front of the horse! Who gets the back? There'd be three people fighting in the front of the horse! PS: We'd all have one horse each, with a saggy bit behind us. Obviously at some point we'd grown up to a certain point … MJ: Like Thumbelina! We've grown up now. PS: … and then our complexities and differences of opinion meant it petered out. Once we'd kicked Mick out. And Topper [Headon, the drummer]. MJ [laughing hard]: There wasn't anybody left! That's why! PS: Somebody said: "I'll give you a million pound each to reform," and we said no. It got so ridiculous, and money wasn't even going to be a consideration anyway.

We came and did what we did and now let's move on. Say Joe was still around, I still think don't think it would have happened. The final Clash album – 1985's Cut the Crap , with no Jones or Headon – has been expunged from history. Why? PS: There were a lot of good songs on it, but what's disappointing is that 'cos me and Mick used to bicker in the studio … MJ: That was a good thing! PS: It was a good thing. And when we came to doing Cut the Crap, I said to Joe: "D'you know what? I'm going to step back and let you make the record, so I'm not this bickering voice." And I stood back and let him take control. What I didn't know, and found out later, is that Bernie took control and Joe walked away from it as well. So in the end it became Bernie's record. There are some great songs on it, but they're smothered in unnecessaries that made it really cloudy. It could have been a great record. MJ: It's not the Clash. The Clash is the three of us, and the two drummers.

At least you managed to repair your friendships quickly after Mick was sacked. MJ: Oh, very soon. That was the amazing thing. There was only a short time when we weren't really talking to each other. PS: When me and Joe came and got involved in your video [for the 1985 single The Medicine Show by Jones's post-Clash group Big Audio Dynamite], in some ways that was a visual statement saying: "We're friends. We're OK." Was the Gorillaz Plastic Beach tour in 2010 the first time you'd played together onstage since the Clash? PS: More or less. We did play at a party once. Damon asked me: "Do you think Mick would be up for coming on tour." "I'll ask him." It was a celebration of a great record, and a great idea in bringing all these musicians together to go out on this tour together. I think we had seven tour buses, there was so many people. MJ: I did enjoy it. Getting to visit some new places and revisit some old ones. The great thing about doing that is that the more people are onstage, the less you have to do.

My job was basically meet-and-greeter for my section of the stage, 'cos that was the side of the stage where people came on. So I met and greeted the people and escorted them to the centre of the stage, and it was very nice. Paul was on the other side and we were like wingmen. It was very nice to be able to sit on top of an orchestra and just underpin certain things. It was a beautiful experience for me. I was never big on rehearsals before that. But Damon's very big on them, and now I realise the benefit, which I didn't realise before. Since then, I've been really keen on: the more you do, the better you get. Before, I just used to wing it. PS: Not in the Clash you didn't! We was rehearsing all the bloody time! MJ: But then I dropped off in the intervening years. I thought: "Oh, I don't have to practise because now I know what I want to do in my head I can just do it." But that was obviously a misjudgment and now I'm back on it. I'd forgotten how important rehearsals are.

PS: Also it was a very structured set-up in some ways, Gorillaz. There's a lot of freedom within it, but there's a screen behind you that the drummer has to be in sync with. But we played in LA, at a dress rehearsal for fans, and Bobby Womack started singing the verse again when he should have been singing the chorus, and I thought, you always follow the singer to back him up, and suddenly I was out of sync with the whole band. Fortunately, it was only for one song, but I learned: "I'm just gonna stick with the regime." Finally, any regrets about the Clash – missed opportunities, anything like that? MJ: Can I just sound like Edith Piaf? PS: Are you going to say it in French? I have no regrets. I'm the kind of person who looks forward, to what I'm doing. And what are you doing? Both, simultaneously, before collapsing in gales of laughter: Working on the box set! The Sound System box set and The Clash Hits Back will be released on Columbia on 9 September.

Sound System set to be accompanied by best-of album, sequenced to copy a 1982 Brixton show Published: 21 May 2013 Mick Jones’s Biography — Free listening, videos, concerts, stats and photos at Last.fm Listeners Biography There are two musicians known as Mick Jones, one connected to The Clash and Big Audio Dynamite , the other to Foreigner . Michael Geoffrey "Mick" Jones (born 26 June 1955) was the lead guitarist and a vocalist of the British punk rock band The Clash until his dismissal in 1983. He went on to form the band Big Audio Dynamite with Don Letts before line-up changes led to the formation of Big Audio Dynamite II and later Big Audio . In recent years Mick Jones has been collaborating with fellow punk icon Tony James , using the moniker Carbon/Silicon , and has released several albums of original material between 2002 and 2007. Early life: Jones was born in Brixton, South London, England to a Welsh father and a Russian Jewish mother. He spent much of his early life living with his maternal grandmother, Stella, in South London.

Jones went to Strand School - and then on to art school, because " thought that's how you get into bands and stuff". “ But even before the Dolls , I used to follow bands around. I followed Mott the Hoople up and down the country. I’d go to Liverpool or Newcastle or somewhere—sleep on the Town Hall steps, and bunk the fares on the trains, hide in the toilet when the ticket inspector came around. I’d jump off just before the train got to the station and climb over the fence. It was great times, and I always knew I wanted to be in a band and play guitar. That was it for me. ” –Mick Jones to Gibson Backstage Pass Holiday Double Issue 2006. He started gaining recognition as a guitarist in the early 70s with his glam rock band, The Delinquents . A short time later, he met Tony James and formed the proto-punk London SS . By 1976, the band had broken up and remaining members Jones, Paul Simonon and Keith Levene were seeking a new direction.

When he was 21, he (and Paul Simonon) were introduced to Joe Strummer by Bernie Rhodes (the self proclaimed inventor of punk rock) in a dirty squat in Shepherd's Bush. The band practiced in a disused railway warehouse in Camden and The Clash were formed. Jones played lead guitar, sang, and co-wrote songs from the band's inception until he was fired by Strummer and Simonon in 1983. Jones' lack of punctuality played a major role in his dismissal from the band. For his time with The Clash, Jones, along with the rest of the band, was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2003. After his expulsion from The Clash, Jones was briefly a founding member of General Public . However, by the time that band's debut album appeared, Jones was no longer an official band member, although he did play guitar on many of the album's tracks. Leaving General Public behind, in 1984 Jones formed Big Audio Dynamite with film director Don Letts, who had directed various Clash videos and later the Clash documentary Westway to the World.

The band's debut album This Is Big Audio Dynamite was released the following year, with the song "E=MC²" getting heavy rotation in dance clubs, and both singles "Medicine Show" and "E=MC2" charting in the UK Singles Chart. For Big Audio Dynamite's second album, No. 10 Upping St ., Jones reunited with Strummer. Together, the two wrote several songs on the album, including "Beyond the Pale", "V. Thirteen", and "Sightsee M.C."; Strummer also co-produced the album. Their reunion did not last long, and following that collaboration, the two did not work together again for some time. Big Audio Dynamite's third album, Tighten Up, Vol. 88 , featured cover art painted by the ex-Clash bassist, Paul Simonon. Shortly following its release, Jones developed chicken pox, along with pneumonia and spent several months in hospital. After his recovery, Jones released one more album with Big Audio Dynamite, Megatop Phoenix , before reshuffling the line-up, renaming the band Big Audio Dynamite II and releasing The Globe album.

In 1991, Jones was featured on Aztec Camera 's song "Good Morning Britain", with Roddy Frame . The band's line-up was reshuffled again in 1994, and they released the album Higher Power under the name Big Audio . In 1995, a greatest hits album, Planet B.A.D. was released as well as a studio album called F-Punk under the original Big Audio Dynamite name. A further album, Entering a New Ride was recorded in 1997, but was only released on the internet due to disagreement with Radioactive Records, their then record label. One more "best of" collection, called Super Hits, was released in 1999. In 2002, Jones teamed up with his former London SS colleague, Generation X and Sigue Sigue Sputnik member, Tony James to form a new band named Carbon/Silicon. The band has toured the United Kingdom and has performed a number of anti-fascist benefit concerts; they have also recorded three albums: A.T.O.M, Western Front and The Crackup Suite which were available online for free. Their first real release was The News EP.

The band encourage their fans to share their music on P2P networks, and allow the audio and video taping of their shows. Their first song, MPFree is an anthem for P2P file sharing. Jones has also become an occasional producer. He was at the controls for the London based band The Libertines debut album Up The Bracket. The CD was critically well received, both in the UK and U.S. Jones stayed on to produce the band's second and final album The Libertines. He also produced Down In Albion, the debut album of former Libertines lead singer and guitarist Pete Doherty 's new group Babyshambles . Jones is also credited with contributing guitar and vocals to "Mal Bicho," the lead track of Los Fabulosos Cadillacs ' album Rey Azucar. He recently provided the score for Nick Mead's film, Dice Life - the Random Mind of Luke Rhinehart, a contemporary dance film created by Nick Mead and Wayne McGregor, featuring Luke Rhinehart, author of The Dice Man. At the NME Shockwave 2007 awards, Jones took to the stage and performed White Man in Hammersmith Palais with Primal Scream .

Richard Archer first met Mick Jones when he was still with Contempo . The band were looking for a producer when one of the members of the record company suggested Jones, to which the band agreed to. At a rehearsal in Putney, Richard compared his dress sense to that of "the Godfather". Archer worked for a year on the band's first record, but things didn't work out as planned due to problems with the record company. Talking about Archer, Jones said: "I guess I can have a lot of fun at this stage in my career and I like working with young people such as Rich because they're full of new ideas. I wouldn't say I'm a mentor to him, though. I just like to try to have some fun and play a few tunes. At Hard-Fi's NME Awards show at the Koko club on 6 February 2008 Jones appeared with Hard-Fi to perform the Clash's "Should I Stay or Should I Go" and Hard-Fi's "Stars of CCTV". On 1 March 2008, rumours started appearing that the two would be forming a new band after Archer joined Jones and his new band, Carbon/Silicon, during a show in London.

They revealed that they were thinking about combining the two bands to form a project called "Hard Carbon". Jones reunited with Simonon on the 2010 Gorillaz album, Plastic Beach, on the title track "Plastic Beach". Jones is also performing in the Gorillaz live band supporting Plastic Beach, playing Rhythm Guitar, along with Simonon. Jones' first guitar was a Gibson Les Paul Junior with a P-90 pickup, which he bought since Johnny Thunders used one. The Junior were his main guitar up until late 1977 early 1978 when he it got smashed at a gig. He then switched the regular Gibson Les Paul. He also occasionally played a Fender Stratocaster and several Bond Guitars that were donated to him by good friend Andrew Bond who made the guitars. For effects Jones mainy used MXR pedals including a 100 Phaser, a Flanger, an Analog Delay and a Noisegate as well as a Roland chorus or Space Echo effect. During the early times with The Clash, Jones used Marshall Plexi amplifier as well as occasionally an Fender Twin with a 2x12 cabinet.

He later changed to Mesa Boogie amplifier with two Marshall 4x12 cabinets that he used throughout the rest of his career with The Clash. 2. The other Mick Jones: Michael Leslie "Mick" Jones (born 27 December 1944) is an English guitarist, songwriter, and record producer best known as the founding member of the rock band Foreigner. In 1976 he formed Foreigner with Ian McDonald and recruited vocalist Lou Gramm . Jones co-produced all of the group's albums and co-wrote most of their songs with Gramm. Jones wrote the band's biggest and most successful single, "I Want to Know What Love Is", with some degree of uncredited contribution by Gramm. Tensions developed within the band during the early 1980s and were attributed to a difference in musical taste between Gramm, who favoured a more hard edged rock, as opposed to Jones' interest in synthesisers. Gramm left the band in 1989 but returned in 1991. Also in 1989, Jones released his only solo album titled Mick Jones on the Atlantic Records label. Jones is the only person to play on every Foreigner album.

Question: Which band did Mick Jones form on leaving the Clash?
Answer: Big Audio Dynamite